I'll be Home for Christmas
by Lady Elara
Summary: A little piece from Catherine's and Vincent's perspectives around the Winterfest Chatherine was being held by Gabriel. Short with little plot, but I hope you like.


This was inspired one day while I was sitting at work listening to 'I'll be Home for Christmas' and 'Please Come Home for Christmas' for the hundredth time this year. It's not my best story, it's not even my best BntB, but the idea just wouldn't leave me. Merry Christmas and Enjoy!

After her abduction at the hands of Gabriel's henchmen, Catherine at first had a hard time keeping track of the time. One day seemed to blend into the next, and the isolation indoors combined with the constant drugs that they kept pumping into her until she wasn't sure if she had been there for days, weeks, months or years. The only way she could keep any semblance of a grasp on the passage of time was the child growing inside her. She could estimate the weeks and months by how large he became.

After she was moved to the new prison, it became a little easier to judge. She now had a window and could see the sun rise and set, and she wasn't being drugged anymore, so her head was clear. She still wasn't sure exactly how long had passed in that dark haze, though.

Then one day, it snowed. "Snow, Sweetheart. If it's snowing, it must be December." Catherine had gotten into the habit of talking to her unborn baby, since no one else around here would say a word to her, except brief orders, mostly from the doctor. She knew that some might think that it was a sign that she was going crazy, but for her, it was one of the only ways she could keep sane, even a small grip on reality. She told the child anything and everything she could think of. She had told him her entire life story, everything she knew about Vincent's life, how they had met and how they had changed each other. She told him of her friends Above, her family, all now passed, and their family Below, though she was careful whenever she spoke of Vincent or the Tunnels, making sure that she never spoke any details loud enough to be picked up by the microphones on the ever-present cameras.

Now, as she stood at the window watching the snow fall, she became determined. She would make them tell her the date the next time someone came to her. It just so happened that a few hours later, one of the guards came in with her food tray. As he sat it on the bed, she turned to him. "Please, can you tell me what the date is?"

He just stared at her. "Why?"

"Why not? What harm can it do if I know the date? What can I do with that knowledge? It's not like I'm planning an escape and need to coordinate with someone on the outside. You and your boss both know I haven't spoken to anyone but you and the rest of your goons since I was kidnapped. I know it's been several weeks."

He stared at her for a moment longer before shrugging with a sniff. "It's December 17th." Without another word, he left the room, closing the door behind him.

As she heard the lock click, Catherine sat down on the edge of her bed. "December 17th. It was October 10th when we were taken. It's been over two months. Oh, you're poor daddy must be going out of his mind with worry." A tear slipped down her cheek as she rubbed her now visibly swollen belly. She felt a gentle flutter inside and smiled. She had started to feel movement just within the last couple of weeks, and it brought a joy to her heart despite her current situation.

Sitting back against the headboard, the food entirely forgotten for the moment, Catherine let her mind wander. "The 17th. If I was home, by now I'd be trying to wrap up the last of my cases before the holidays. There would be last minute shopping for your Aunts Jenny and Nancy, and trying to find the right presents for Daddy and the rest of the family. I think I know what I would have given your Grandfather. I still have some of Grandpa Charles' clothes. I remember seeing a couple of sweaters in there that I bet would fit Grandfather perfectly." She chuckled as she pictured the look on Father's face when he saw the present. "He would protest that it was far too extravagant, and I would explain that they were simply lying around in an old box, not doing anyone any good there, and that my dad would be happy they were being put to good use. Grandfather would grumble a little more, but he'd eventually give in."

She chuckled as the scene unfolded in her imagination (which had been getting quite a workout the last several weeks), but then turned sober, her eyes misting over. "Of course, before Christmas, there would be Winterfest. The children have probably delivered all the candles by now, or else they're getting ready to. There's only a couple more days to go. Oh, it was so beautiful last year," she sighed, a smile touching her lips. But then she remembered a few of the events. "Despite everything that happened." She shivered a little.

Shaking her head, she banished those thoughts. Paracelsus was dead, no ifs, ands or buts about it, his body cast into the Abyss. He wouldn't be coming back to torment them this year. "If I were home, things would definitely be different this year. By now, I hope I would have been able to talk your Daddy through all of his fears, and we would both be so happy about you coming. We would spend the whole night together, eating, playing games, visiting with our friends and family. And we would dance together, this time to real music." She closed her eyes with a smile and a sigh, remembering the one dance they had shared after Winterfest last year, after everyone else had left, and they were alone in the dark Hall with nothing but the music of their love. It had been wonderful, but to dance in front of everyone, to have him hold her in that intimate way, claiming her as his for all to see...

Over the next few days, she related stories of Christmases past. Most of them were from her own childhood, but she had heard a few stories from the Tunnels, and of course, she had her experience from last year too. She even eventually got up the courage to tell her baby the entire story of last year's nearly tragic Winterfest that almost ended with the destruction of the entire community.

She also speculated on what Winterfest would be like this year, without her there. She wondered briefly if they would even _have_ Winterfest this year, but knew that it was silly to think otherwise. She was only one person among dozens. It was presumptuous to think that they would cancel something that important just because she wasn't there to enjoy it with them. It had gone on for years before she knew the community existed and would hopefully go on for years after she was dead and gone. Oh, she knew all her friends would be sad that she wasn't there, but it wouldn't stop them from celebrating.

When the night of the 21st came, Catherine sat alone in her bed, staring out the window. As soon as the sun set, she started to imagine what would be happening if she was home. She pictured herself leaving her apartment and meeting Vincent at her basement threshold, dressed in a soft velvet gown, cut just so that it accentuated her expanding body beautifully, but was still comfortable enough to be worn all night.

Or perhaps she would be living Below with Vincent, and they would leave from their chamber, and she would be dressed just like the rest of the Tunnel dwellers. This idea was just as appealing, if not more so. True, the old Cathy would have cringed at the idea of wearing patched, handmade hand-me-downs. But the Catherine who had come into being since meeting Vincent now treasured the idea. It would mean that she was finally with the one that she loved, completely and forever.

But in either scenario, they would join the crowd in the Chamber of the Winds. She would stand at the bottom of the stairs with Father and some of the others, watching as Vincent lifted the heavy beam that held the doors of the Great Hall closed. He would then come to her and take her hand, leading her through the vast, dark chamber to her seat at his side at the huge table.

As she dreamed, she could hear Father, Mary and Vincent conducting the opening ceremony. She could see the flare of the candle flame, first, the single small glow in front of Father, then passing, one by one, around the table, with each candle adding its light to drive back the darkness in the room. Soon, the chandeliers were lit and hoisted high to the ceiling, casting their brilliance into all but the farthest corners.

Just imagining the feast that William would create made her mouth water. She had been planning since last year to covertly speak to him and quietly arrange to have any and all supplies he could want delivered to him. She knew that Father probably wouldn't have approved, but there was so little she could do for her family, it would be nice to help make just this one day special.

After the meal was eaten, the tables would be move off to the sides of the hall, leaving most of the room open for small groups to gather and chat or play games. A large area just off to one side of the center would be the unofficially designated dance floor. Catherine could hear the music now. There were so many talented musicians between the residents and Helpers, they could take turns, that way no one had to spend the entire time playing, and they could still have a near constant background of music. Of course, a large part of it would be classics and traditional music, a lot of folk songs and waltzes and such for dancing. But so close to Christmas, there would be a few carols thrown into the mix as well.

As she lay there imaging, a song from her childhood came into her mind. Even though she had never thought she had much of a singing voice, just as it had when she was tending to Ellie as she lay dying in the hospital chamber, a compulsion overcame Catherine, and she began to sing.

"I'm dreamin' tonight of a place I love, even more then I usually do. And although I know it's a long road back, I promise you..." Tears began to prick at the back of her eyes as she put all her strength into sending this promise across the unknown distances to Vincent. She knew that their Bond hadn't returned. If it had, he would have come for her long before this, come hell or high water. But she could still hope and pray that her love would somehow reach him.

"I'll be home for Christmas. You can count on me. Please have snow and mistletoe and presents under the tree. Christmas Eve will find me where the love light gleams. I'll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams...

"Christmas Eve will find me where the love light gleams. I'll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams." It was all she could do to choke out the end of the song as the tears that had threatened from the beginning finally consumed her. Flopping onto her side, she curled into a tight ball of misery, her arms tightly wrapped around her stomach as if cradling the babe within. She wasn't sure how long she lay there sobbing, but by the time she was done, her pillow was soaked, her nose was runny and her eyes felt swollen and itchy.

Just before she passed out from pure emotional exhaustion, she felt the gentle warmth of love steal over her. Even though it felt nothing like the Bond, somehow, deep inside, she knew that the feeling came from Vincent, and that he was thinking of her right now as well. "I love you, Vincent. Now and forever, no matter what." She whispered as she drifted off to sleep, hands still protectively holding their baby.

In her sleep, she returned to that stone hall far below the surface. She saw the candles, heard the music, smelled all the wonderful food. She saw all the dozens of faces, some far more familiar than others. But there was just once face that she was searching for.

And there, coming across the floor, was the golden visage of her love. With a smile, she met him half way and stepped right into his arms without hesitation, snuggling into his chest and burrowing her nose into the hollow of his neck. As her arms went around his waist, his came up to completely surround her, pulling her close with gentle but firm pressure as his check rested against the top of her hair. She didn't care if anyone or everyone saw them. She was where she was supposed to be. This was home.

Many miles away, deep below the city streets, dozens of people were gathered in the Great Hall to enjoy the long standing tradition of Winterfest. This year, however, there was decidedly less cheer than almost any of them could remember. Even the near tragedy of the year before was nothing in comparison to the shadow that hung over this year's celebrations.

Several weeks ago, it had even been suggested that maybe Winterfest should be canceled this year, since no one really seemed to be in the mood. Father, however, insisted that it was tradition, and as such, should be continued. Moreover, he was sure that if she could speak to them, Catherine would want them to go on and enjoy themselves, even if she couldn't be there with them.

Earlier in the afternoon, Father had gone to Vincent's chamber and was slightly surprised to find him sitting there by himself, simply staring off into the distance. True, it had become a discouragingly common sight the last few months, but Father had hoped that Winterfest would help to cheer his son even just a little. "Vincent? You aren't even dressed yet. Our friends will be arriving in just a couple of hours."

Vincent looked at him briefly before lowering his gaze with a sigh. "I'm sorry Father. I don't think I'll be attending this year. Without..." Vincent couldn't bring himself to finish the thought, but Father understood.

With a sigh of his own, he walked over and squeezed Vincent's shoulder. "Vincent, I know you miss her. We all do. Not a day goes by that I don't think of her, wish that I could see her even once more, for just a few minutes. But what I said to the community as a whole applies just as strongly to you individually; Catherine would want you to enjoy yourself. She would want you to go to the party and celebrate with those who care about you."

Vincent sighed again. "Alright, Father. I will go, but I cannot promise that I will stay. I will do my best."

Father gave him an encouraging and sympathetic smile. "That's all I ask. Now, you had best hurry. Everyone will be expecting you to open the doors."

When the time came, Vincent did just that. As he set the heavy beam aside and pushed open the large doors, his eyes automatically shifted to the area at the bottom of the stairs where Catherine had stood watching him perform the same task exactly one year ago. His heart gave a twang at the memory, but he tried his best to suppress it. He was going to do everything he could to not ruin this night for his friends and family.

But dear, sweet Mary had been standing close by and saw the brief flicker of pain in his eyes. Understanding and sympathy filled her heart and she quietly stepped to his side, wrapping her arms around one of his, taking the place she was sure Catherine would have occupied had she been there. He glanced down at her, gratitude in his eyes, and silently walked with her into the Hall and to the tables.

The opening ceremony was conducted as always, but Vincent simply repeated his lines from memory, no feeling in them as there usually was. In fact, the entire dinner passed in a greatly subdued manor. When the dishes were cleared away and the tables moved back, the real festivities began, but again, there was a distinct deficit of cheer.

By now, every Helper they had knew of Catherine's mysterious disappearance. Even those who had no other connection to her than these Tunnels could feel the weight of her absence here. It was as if a dark cloud hung over the room, keeping the light of true joy from touching the occupants. Even the usually rambunctious children and Mouse were noticeably quiet.

Not wanting his own melancholy to disrupt his family's enjoyment of the evening, and not having the heart or courage to face the heart of the celebration, Vincent spent most of the evening lurking around the edges. A few people tried to cheer him up and get him into the spirit, but quickly found it to be a looking battle, and would shortly move on. Others who had been closer to him and Catherine, would do their best to try and comfort him. He ended up spending quite a bit of time with Father, Mary and Peter. They perhaps understood best how he was feeling and were some of the best equipped to help him work around it.

It was during one of his conversations with Peter that a strange sensation stole into his heart. It wasn't the Bond returning, much as he may hope for such a miracle, but he was certain that it was...Her. He was lost in the feeling for a moment before Peter was finally able to break through. "Vincent, are you alright?"

Shaking his head to clear it, he looked down at the aged physician who was staring up at him with concern. "Yes, I'm fine, Peter. Would you excuse me for a little while?" Without waiting for a reply, Vincent walked away, seeking out the quietest, most deserted corner he could find.

Just as he was leaving, Father walked over. "Peter, what was that all about?"

Peter shook his head. "I'm not sure, Jacob. But I think it would be best for now to let the boy have his space. We can keep an eye on him from a distance."

Father sighed and nodded. "I know he's trying very hard, but I fear that this all may be just too much for him. Perhaps I shouldn't have insisted that he attend. He still misses her so, and won't even begin to consider the possibility that she may never..." Father cut himself off and looked apologetically at his old friend who had literally known Catherine her entire life.

Peter just gave him a sad smile. "I know. He won't even consider the possibility that she may never come back, and if he can't do that, he'll never be able to move on with his life. You know what an optimist I am, Jacob, but as much as I love her and it kills my heart to admit it, I'm even starting to lose hope."

Both men returned their gazes to Vincent. "I just hope that he can come to terms with reality and make it through this. I know I said that their relationship would cause him nothing but pain, but I never in a million years would have expected this. I know dear Catherine would be devastated if she saw him like this."

Peter nodded and the two old friends lapsed into silence for a long while before picking up a lighter topic of conversation, all the while keeping a covert eye on Vincent.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Vincent was completely blind and deaf to anything going on around him, his senses all turned completely inside. He explored this new feeling in his heart, trying to understand it. It felt like the sweetest, most precious love he had ever experienced, but tainted by a deep, nearly all consuming pain, longing and grief. He recognized the color of these emotions as surely as he recognized his father's footsteps.

It was Catherine.

She was there, in his heart, he could feel it. He didn't know if she was still alive somewhere, or if she was dead and this was somehow her spirit trying to reach out and give him comfort on this night. Even though he didn't want to consciously consider the latter, at the moment, he really didn't care much either way. He had missed feeling her there beside him so much, he almost cried out at the tender ache it inspired.

Not knowing if she would be able to sense him in return, but knowing he had to try, he sent her all of his love, every single ounce he had been storing up over the long weeks of her absence. "Catherine, my heart! I love you so. I should have told you long ago. I will never give you up, ever. I will be yours for the rest of eternity, no matter what."

He closed his eyes and saw her standing on the other side of the chamber. Without hesitation, he started toward her and was unsurprised when she met him half way and easily stepped into his embrace. He held her as tight as he dared, not caring who saw but in the back of his mind slightly concerned about hurting her in his enthusiasm.

When she nestled her head in its habitual spot below his chin, he turned his head and lowered his face until his check was resting on the silk of her hair. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled her scent and euphoria shot through him. He knew now that this was where he belonged; safe in his Catherine's arms. As a tear slipped down his cheek he promised himself and her; when he got her back, he would never, ever let her go again. He didn't know if it would be in this life or whatever lay beyond, but he knew that someday, they would be together once more and then forever, never more to be separated.


End file.
